Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Theo
I stared down at the drink in my hands. I’d been looking forward to it all day—Jordan was one hell of a mixologist—but now that I had it, I didn’t want it. The one thing I did want insisted on being alone for a while.
I felt more than saw Jordan approach me, then braced for impact when he dropped into the seat next to me. “He’s okay, Theo,” he said for what must have been the millionth time that day.
I had been freaking out about Shea. The second I heard Tyler screaming for Jordan, I knew what happened.
I’d been in that situation before, and I likely would many times in the future.
Shea practically had to peel himself away from me for their bonfire that evening, and Jordan created a made-up disaster that needed my attention, only to shove a drink in my hand and block the door until I agreed not to leave.
People milled about, some tipsy, others not. The tables of the dining hall were littered with various supplies—bottles, diapers, and even adult toys. Hums and cracks filled the building as people tried them out.
I sat on the steps, gazing toward the orange glow of the bonfire.
I still held that first cocktail in my hands, condensation beading on the sides and dampening my palms. The ice had long since melted.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to be drunk.
The thought of chugging booze until my head swam and I felt like moving through water didn’t appeal to me.
Feeling weak, sluggish, and hungover the next morning—no thanks.
Not after spending the last few days feeling just the opposite.
I wanted that jolt back, the electricity sizzling through my skin with just the touch of a finger.
His body heat against mine, his tongue where no other had gone before. I wanted my boy.
“That’s not what’s going through your head, is it?”
It only took a single look and a brief shake of my head for Jordan to get to his feet. “Kay!”
I don’t know how he did it, but he always had a sixth sense for things that required someone who didn’t have a dick. Someone who was born like me.
Relieved that I would get to talk it out, I finally brought my red plastic cup to my lips.
Only for it to be snatched away.
“Hey!”
“I’m making you another one!” Jordan defended. “You can’t disrespect my skills by drinking this watered-down monstrosity.”
Accepting my booze-less fate, my hands fell to my lap.
Someone sat behind me, and two tan legs stretched to either side of me.
I leaned back and rested against Kaylee’s chest, my elbows on her thighs.
I inhaled deeply, calmed by the scent of jasmine coming from her.
She rested her chin on my shoulder, loose wavy hair tickling my skin. “What’s up?”
The words rushed out on the exhale, and I didn’t realize exactly what I was going to say until I said it. “Do you let your Littles suckle on you?”
I hadn’t realized that it was something I was into.
Then again, I’d never tried it. Most of my Littles had never even seen my chest. We’d do a scene, sometimes I’d bathe them, other times they opted to clean up themselves.
Regardless, I always ended up showering alone, with even the thought of letting them near my chest getting my heart racing.
I’d stayed awake while Shea napped, simply watching him. Even after dozing off, he kept a tight suction on my nipple, cupping my other breast in his hand like an emotional support toy.
The ease in which he calmed once he latched on battled the insecurity whirling inside of me and in spite of the heat, I built a blanket wall around us in case someone peeked through the screen door.
“Sometimes,” came Kaylee’s answer. “Sometimes it’s the only way I can get Dakota to sleep. Is that something you’re interested in?”
“Uh, yeah, I’d say so. I don’t know what came over me earlier.”
"What happened?"
And I spilled the entire story. Kaylee wrapped her arms around my shoulders and rubbed my upper arms. Damn it, the gesture was so comforting that it brought tears to my eyes.
Perhaps I should have been having this conversation with Shea.
Sometimes even Doms needed help, whether that help came from their Little—or another caregiver.
As annoying and insufferable as they could sometimes be, Jordan and Kaylee always knew what to say.
Kaylee especially when it came to being born female.
Even without what she said when I finished speaking, I knew exactly what my intentions were when I undressed for Shea earlier.
“You were scared. Your Little was hurt, and you couldn’t do anything to fix it for him. I think you needed that comfort as much as he did.”
I blinked away blurry vision, picking Shea out in the sea of Littles surrounding the campfire. No one else may have been able to, but I was drawn to his presence like a moth to a flame.
He’d allowed me to diaper him again before he left and even opted for a short snap-crotch romper instead of other clothes.
He sat next to Tyler and to my relief, both boys were smiling.
Tyler had already been in a sensitive state with his hangover, and Shea’s allergic reaction had scared the poor boy into tears.
As reluctant as I was to let go of Shea after that, he needed this time with his friend.
And as much as I hated to admit it, I needed time with mine.
I needed time to be vulnerable with myself before I let Shea see me that way.
Again.
"Sorry," I murmured, scrubbing my eyes dry.
"Oh, shut up." Kaylee leaned around me, dabbing at my eyes with a tissue she seemed to have produced from nowhere. She pressed it into my hand. "Blow your nose, you hot mess."
"Aw, you think I'm hot? Sorry, love I'm—ow!"
"Don't be pedantic because you're feeling exposed, Theo Brealey."
The door behind us creaked open and a new plastic cup was handed over my shoulder. Looking up, I accepted the drink, condensation already beading up across the walls of the cup. "Thanks," I said to Jordan.
He sat next to Kaylee. "Did you fix it?" he asked, gesturing vaguely in my direction.
"I don't appreciate being referred to as 'it.'"
"I think so."
"I'll fire you both."
We all knew I wouldn't, so I finally took a sip of the Dr. Pepper and spiced rum that Jordan had brought me.
I thanked my lucky stars that he hadn't brought me one of his over the top, complicated drinks.
I didn't need to be trying to pick out the individual flavors in a cocktail right now.
The simplicity of the drink forced me to take a step back, to stop trying to make sense of all the chaos whirling around in my mind.
The three of us fell silent. Jordan went back inside, Kaylee stayed in her spot, rubbing my arms, and I flickered my attention between Shea and the stars scattered across the sky like confetti.
Things were so much simpler than my roiling thoughts made them out to be.
Shea was mine again—signed, sealed, delivered.
I didn't need to worry about what it meant.
He was here, and he wanted me. I rested against Kaylee's chest, slowly sipping at my drink.
By the time it was halfway gone, my mind was made up: I wasn't wasting anymore time.
Shea and I had been separated long enough.
"Uh oh," Kaylee said. "I know that look. What are you scheming?"
"I'm going to ask Shea to move in with me."
"You sound certain."
"I am. It's been long enough. And we’ve wasted too much time already. Why should we feel like we have to start over? Being with him is familiar; comforting. He's like… walking into a house and knowing you're home."
"So when should I expect my wedding invite?"
I snickered and checked my invisible watch. "In about five minutes if he'll have me."
Kaylee planted a messy kiss to my cheek, lip gloss sticking and smearing across my skin. I resisted the urge to wipe it away, knowing she would just do it again—and worse. "Remember I look good in pink."
"How could I forget?" I lifted a hand and captured a rogue curl that had slipped free of her messy bun. I had no qualms about being affectionate with my friends. Shea wasn't the jealous type. He never had been. He was just… perfect.
With one more squeeze around my shoulders, Kaylee patted me on the back. "Go get your man. You want another drink?"
"No, I'm good. Shea gets me drunk enough."
Whereas Jordan may have rolled his eyes at the comment, Kaylee smiled and disappeared inside, letting the screen door bang shut behind her.
Instead of getting up right away, I watched Shea for another moment.
He and Tyler were deep in conversation and when Shea lifted his shirt, I assumed he'd deemed Tyler worthy enough to know about his past—about us.
I was unsure of exactly how many people knew, but I couldn't imagine it was information that he handed out voluntarily.
Then both boys looked in my direction, and I took that as my sign: My boy needed me.